


Urge

by madamebomb



Category: Green Lantern: The Animated Series
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2019-09-07 01:01:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16843978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madamebomb/pseuds/madamebomb
Summary: This urge cannot be resisted.





	Urge

There are moments in the star-strewn black, when the press of flesh to hardlight is all that keeps the darkness back. When the burn of loss and memory sparks a heat and grows into a flame of need. When every sigh against electric lips is a prayer. Driven past denial, past the point of no return, he gives in to the heat of her mouth, the soft slide of her fingers in his hair, the hot brush of her lips against his throat.

The wall is cold, the metal as unyielding and inescapable as the pull of her blue eyes. She surges forward with a need she cannot contain, both objectively studying it and giving in to the temptation of it all. Her fingers press into his skin, sliding over muscle, digging into bone as his blue armor disappears into the ether. Everything is a rush, like falling and flying at the same time.

She says his name, breathes it in the darkness and he kisses the sound from her lips. His hands cradle her face, thumbs tilting her chin upward. His tongue sweeps against hers, the softest of brushes. The taste of her spreads in his mouth and he presses deeper, opening her mouth to his in a hungry press that grows wild. She doesn’t stop him, eagerness in the clench of her hands on his naked lower back.

He turns them, pressing her against the unforgiving, curved wall. One knee knifes between hers and he lifts her between himself and the wall. Her arms thread his neck as her legs wrap around his waist. A moan leaves her, the sound like hot fingers running down his stiff flesh. He’s painfully hard, the pressure and need like a knife digging low. His teeth catch her lower lip and he tugs on it, practically growling as his hips surge forward. His hands cradle her buttocks, kissing her as hard as he dares, nails digging into the hard metal.

She breaks the kiss first and his name leaves her lips, the sound scattering through the air like moonlight. His mouth scrapes down her chin, and attaches to her neck. His teeth score her with a mindless nibble as her neck arches, fingers pressing on the back of his shoulders now. His tongue follows his teeth, lifting the taste of her, savoring it. Her hands drag his mouth back to hers and the spark of her lips on his makes him moan again.

A deep ache settles in his stomach. He can’t resist it. Can’t resist her. He’s tried.

It never works.

When he gives in, when he buries himself inside of her, everything makes sense. His skin sings, alive with electricity, the slow burn, the hum of her power vibrating through his bones. She sighs and tilts her head back, her fingers folding into his skin, leaving bruises almost as black as his markings. Her body clenches around him, soft and sweet, exquisite, a thing of beauty. His teeth score her lower lip, bodies burning as they come together.

He groans her name, his knees trembling, not with effort but emotion. He cannot hold out. Completion comes all too soon, and his hand slams against the wall at her back, his hips arching forward, high and hard. She sighs into his ear, soothing, soft, every bit of her ablaze with power she is trying not to unleash. He can feel the heat of it in her palms, as she smooths down his hair, traces the markings on his shoulders. He is aglow, alive, thrumming, but still merely a candle to her bonfire. He basks in her, smoldering in the afterburn of their lovemaking.

His face presses into her neck, breathing her in, his pulse a galloping thing. Guilt is a constant enemy, one she banishes back to the darker parts of his heart as her lips softly flutter against his. She is all need, yearning sweetness, caged heat. She loves him. Every caress, every kiss tells him so. How silly of him to forget, to push her away out of some desperate need to contain himself, to stopper the swirling vortex of his need for her, and in the process completely forgetting her need of him.

He doesn’t apologize; the words will not come. She doesn’t ask him to. Love floods her gaze and she smooths his sweat-dampened hair back, smiling slightly. He studies her face for a long moment and then allows a smile to pull at his lips. He understands now. On nights when the star-strewn black seems endless and empty, unforgiving and full of horrors and memory, the need for skin upon skin, for comfort and pleasure, for warmth and passion, are needs they both share.

And he will never deny them again.


End file.
